


Perdomo

by Petey_Pie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Harry gets good parents, Harry never lives with the Dursleys AU, I just want Harry to be happy, Innocent Harry, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious Harry, Sweet Harry, Who are very gay and cute and are BAMFS, Writing letters is gay culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 15:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petey_Pie/pseuds/Petey_Pie
Summary: At the tender age of eleven, Harry James Potter is the epitome of innocence. If things had been different, sure, maybe he would have turned out jaded, too old for his years, but as it was the trials and hardships he should have suffered through had been narrowly avoided, and so producing the sweetest, most adoring saviour of the Wizarding world that nobody was expecting.ORSomeone took Harry from the Dursley's doorstep before they ever had the chance to take him in, allowing Harry to grow up, in hiding, with magical parents and so changed the fate of the wizarding world as we know it.





	Perdomo

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Long time no see! I'm really sorry about neglecting One For The Radio, but the negative feedback paired with the stress of sitting my highers basically made me hate the story and it's contents in general. But, I'm back with some (hopefully) tooth-rotting fluff after rewatching PoA and getting - embarrassingly - inspired by Harry and Buckbeak. I hope you enjoy what should be a short lot of happy sweetness, and thank you in advance for taking the time to read :D

_My dearest Amelia,_

_I find myself, once again, in quite the predicament. As you very well know, I am a naturally impulsive, determined person. You have told me many times that you find it endearing and I am hoping that, once again, you will regard my actions with fond exasperation rather than annoyance and harsh words. That is not to insinuate, my darling, that I would ever accuse you of acting in any manner besides lovingly towards me, it is only that this time I may have gone a little further than I intended. You see, as I was taking the scenic route back home tonight, I just so happened to pass by a house with a rather suspicious bundle of cloth stuffed on the front step. As a naturally inquisitive person – you know what I am like, my love – I simply had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when, instead of the hamper or perhaps even injured animal that I was expecting, there was a tiny little boy swaddled in threadbare blankets and left in the, below freezing, temperatures on a doorstep in Surrey! In my honest admission, I did not think before scooping the poor little thing up and apparating back home as quickly as humanly possible. Now, whilst it may not sound that bad at current, when he began to stir and just as I was bathing the dirt and grime from his (adorably beautiful) black hair, I noticed an aggravated scar on his forehead. I couldn’t believe it myself when I came to the realisation that, not only have I accidentally kidnapped Harry James Potter the night he miraculously vanquished He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but that someone was foolish enough to simply leave him stranded on a random doorstep in the middle of the night – and in a muggle neighbourhood no less! Anyway, as you are still in Rome on business, I thought I would write to you straight away and get your opinion on the matter and how we should proceed._

_Yours forever, and with all my love,_

_Roxanne._

Placing her quill down with utmost care, Roxanne Elizabeth Hart scrubbed blearily at her face. She gently rolled up the parchment she had written on and expertly folded it into a blank envelope, relishing in the gentle scent of fresh paper as she tied it to the ankle of her favourite eagle owl. Artemis, the owl, stayed beautifully still, but Roxanne knew him, saw the curious gazes that the intelligent creature directed towards the new addition to her kitchen furniture; a beautiful wooden crib, glowing a soft blue in the moonlight that streamed in through the opened window. With a fondness that many seemed to lack for their pets, Roxanne smoothed her hand across her owls head and crooned lovingly as he nudged into the touch. “If he’s to stay, I promise you, you will get to know him. For now, I need you to get to Amelia as soon as you can. It’s of the utmost importance. Be safe!” She called to him as his powerful wings began to beat and he soared elegantly into the dark skies with an echoing screech.

Satisfied that she had done everything that she could for the night, the young woman latched the window closed and turned to face the crib, situated in the corner of the room like it belonged there. It didn’t, because she had transfigured it from an empty salt-shaker, but the sentiment remained. She started slowly towards it, wary of her pattering footsteps on the cool tile of the kitchen, because the last thing she wanted was to wake the angel resting peacefully inside, but she didn’t have to worry. When she had made it to the side of the crib, letting her peer warily over the side, her heart fluttered painfully in her chest.

Going on twenty-four, Roxanne – Roxy, to her friends and to her lover – had always wanted a child of her own. Her own parents had been painfully lacking, and her wish to provide an infant with the childhood she had never experienced had been present since before she had even left home. At the point she was at in her life, finally settled down with her girlfriend of six years, she felt more than ready for the responsibility, but they had yet to get around to discussing it properly. Albeit the unlikelihood of retaining custody of Harry Potter, the infant sleeping soundly in the transfigured crib, Roxy wanted to - no, _needed to_ \- make the most of the situation. Careful to avoid jostling him, her slim, steady hands stretched underneath the tiny body below her and brought little Harry up to her chest where she held him to her and took a moment to simply revel in how _right_ it felt.

He made a gentle sound and Roxy was quick to soothe him, padding instinctively towards her bedroom as the little one’s adorable hands fisted in her lengthy, auburn hair. She laughed quietly, untangling the strands from his fingers as she sat down on her bed, slowly reclining until she could lay against the pillows with Harry snuggled into her front. A wave of her hand was all it took to effectively baby-proof the bed, making it so there was no risk of the mocha-skinned angel she was handling falling from the relatively high sides. With practiced ease, Roxy constructed a charm to wake her when the baby awoke or needed assistance, and slipped easily into slumber, the comforting weight of Harry bearing down on her easing her journey into sleep.

When she awoke again, it was to sunlight streaming in through her blinds, and to a pair of bright green eyes gazing up at her curiously from her chest. She smiled despite herself, reaching down with sleepy arms to scoop him up and whisk him playfully up into the air. It was worth it to hear Harry’s musical giggles, to see the way his cheeks flushed and his eyes glinted playfully.

“Well, good morning to you, little mister!” She cooed, settling him back down as she propped herself up against the pillows. Babbling a reply, Harry simply beamed up in response. Feeling light, Roxy scooped him up with ease and made her way back to the kitchen, humming a gentle tune in her happiness. Upon reaching the room, the first thing she noticed was the presence of, not only Artemis, but a mail owl perched outside the window. With a frown, the young witch pushed the pane open and let the two regal birds swoop in. She kept Harry in her hands as she grasped the reply from Amelia and tore it open to read it as quickly as possible.

 

_My Roxy,_

_Stay where you are. I’m coming to pick you up as soon as I can. Keep Harry safe._

_With love,_

_Your Amelia_

With a frown, Roxy tossed the letter aside and tugged the newspaper from the ankle of the second bird, barely acknowledging its flight away from her kitchen as she caught sight of the headline in the copy of The Daily Prophet that she had clutched in one hand. Upon the very front page was plastered a moving image of a slightly younger Harry Potter, the title above it reading ‘The Boy-Who-Lived Left For Dead?’

Roxy could only gasp, skimming through the lines of text to understand some kind of context for both the article and for Amelia’s apparent fear.

 _‘As many of you faithful readers will know, last night was a wonderous night. Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Potter_ _née Evans, miraculously survived an attack from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself and in doing so somehow managed to vanquish the tyrannical megalomaniac at the same time! Not only did he unknowingly save the Wizarding World in its entirety, but he lost a great deal too. Unfortunately, in the attack in Godric’s Hollow, the lives of both esteemed Auror James and one of our Ministry’s very own unspeakables, Lily, were lost. They were incredible members of our community, but first and foremost they were young Harry’s Parents. As I, and many of you would have expected, the general assumption was that the custody of Harry would go to his well-known Godfather, Sirius Black, but to my utter surprise, I have been informed by a reliable source that one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, head of our very own Wizengamot, was the one to pick young Harry up from the ruins of his home after having subdued Black and left him in the care of his partner._

_On its own, the revelation isn’t overly shocking, but it was the intentions behind the headmaster of Hogwarts’ motives that really shook me to my core. You see, instead of bringing the infant saviour to safety, Albus Dumbledore intended to leave the boy-who-lived in the custody of his muggle relatives. What’s worse is that, one; he had not informed anyone of this decision beforehand – including the muggles he was going to leave poor Harry with, and two; instead of directly handing him over to the family, he left the almost-two-year-old on the doorstep of their home in below-freezing temperatures._

_As you would expect, the worst thing that you could possibly imagine has happened; when authorities sought to retrieve young Harry from the non-magical home early this morning, he was nowhere to be seen. We can only suspect that our poor saviour has somehow been found and taken by residual followers of the Dark Lord, and there are currently Aurors conducting a nationwide sweep to find the boy-who-lived, and when they find the culprits, no mercy will be shown._

_For more on the Dark Lord see page 7…_

_For more on the Potter Family see page 23…_

_For more on the trial of Albus Dumbledore see page 2…’_

Tossing the paper down on the kitchen table with a dull thud, Roxy pressed Harry closer to her chest, swaying gently as her brain whirred at a mile a minute. Amelia’s worry was perfectly founded; there was no way in hell that they could possibly hand Harry in to the authorities without themselves being brought in for questioning at the very least. However, given the current state of disarray the Ministry was in, they would most likely be neglected a trial and instead criminalized and locked away to never see the outside world again. She was trembling slightly but took no note, hyperaware of her surroundings as paranoia settled deep into her gut. Every creak, every groan of the cottage set her nerves alight. It was only upon hearing the beginnings of a snuffling cry building up from her arms that she realised her hold on the darling boy was gradually tightening and startled back to reality, loosening her arms immediately. When she gazed downwards, her eyes met watery ones, the startlingly green hue still managing to take her aback.

“Ah! I’m sorry, darling, I got a little distracted. Let’s get you fed whilst we wait on Amelia to arrive,” she cooed, invoking a laugh from the adorable boy when she gently tickled under his chin.

Dancing her way across to the fridge, because cooling cupboards were limited and unnecessary, Roxy grabbed a fresh banana from one shelf, tugged the milk from the door and shut the door with her hip as she placed the foodstuffs on the pale marble counter. With a lack of genuine baby products, she settled for mushing up the banana – all the while cradling Harry in her free arm – and transferring it into a transfigured baby bowl. She made quick work of changing a regular glass into a baby bottle and poured a liberal amount of milk inside, heating it with a wave of her hand and setting it beside the bowl of makeshift baby food. She picked up her wand once more, changing the crib from the night prior into a high chair (Roxy hadn’t been top of her year in transfiguration and charms for nothing) and twirled over, relishing in the happy sounds the boy in her arms seemed so fond of making. He went into the chair with absolutely no fuss, gazing upon her excitedly as she placed the bowl and bottle down on the little tray in front of him. Without pausing, Harry shot a hand out and stuck it straight into the mess of banana, squeezing his tiny little hand into a fist as he watched banana drip from between his fingers. The laugh he gave, loud and excitable, made Roxy’s heart swell, and she watched with adoration bubbling in her chest as he brought his goopy hand to his face and licked up the puree with a gentle smile. Sitting herself down at the table beside the boy, Roxy kept her attention split between watching Harry and letting herself think about what was going to happen now. She was frankly surprised the little boy was acting so happy, so… _okay_ after having witnessed what he did, having gone through the hell that he had. She knew sooner or later he was going to realise his parents weren’t coming back, and she would need to be there to console him through it all, but for now she was content to bask in the joyful little child sitting eating mushed banana and occasionally taking a messy drink of milk.

It was when Harry was about halfway through the bowl of fruit that Roxy heard the floo flare to life from their sitting room. She quickly spelled the boy clean and scooped him up, drawing her wand with one hand and tucking Harry to her breast with the other. With silent steps she stalked towards the lounge, eyes narrowed and prepared for any sign of danger whatsoever, but as she nudged the creaky door open she was greeted solely with the sight of her partner brushing soot from her robes and gazing around warily.

“Amelia! You’re back!” She half-cried, running forward and embracing her lover tightly, Harry held a little to the side so he wouldn’t be crushed between their bodies. The taller brunette grinned, pressing a kiss to Roxy’s cheek as she took a half step back and her gaze drifted down towards the baby.

“That I am. We can’t stay for long, love. We need to get this adorable, darling boy somewhere safe before he’s found and dragged back to the muggles he was abandoned with. Or, perhaps, before _we_ are found and dragged off to Azkaban.”

Roxy nodded as Amelia reached out, smoothing an affectionate hand across Harry’s hair and down his cheek, cupping it softly as she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the boys irritated scar. The boy crooned contentedly. Amelia grinned.

Combined, it took both Roxy and Amelia less than half an hour to pack their trunks, emptying their wardrobes into their cases and taking every item which held any kind of significance; thank you, enlargement charms. From there it was just a matter of Amelia contacting one of her not-so-legal contacts and getting an international portkey made – at some significant cost – and looking out their brooms to make their way to the warehouse where the portkey was being stashed. They secured Harry to Roxy’s chest with long strips of fabric and an abundance of protective charms, and then kicked off from their backyard, draped in disillusionment charms to boot.

As it turns out, they had fled not a moment too soon, and from the sky both Amelia and Roxy watched, melancholic, as their home was invaded by a squad of aurors. They turned away and kept on flying.

They travelled by portkey to France, to a property that Amelia’s pureblood parents had purchased for holidays, and after settling in, glamoured Harry as best as they could, and set out to the French ministry, begging for citizenship.

When it was granted, months later, the pair finally let themselves breathe and turned their focus to raising a child; not just any child, but one Harry James Potter.


End file.
